


A Warrior's Past

by WritingWren



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1295335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWren/pseuds/WritingWren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is telling you his story, from the very beginning when he was only 6 years old to the day he joined the Survey Corps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello (^o^)/ This is my very first fanfiction (and I'm new to ao3 as well n.n). I started writing this because I needed Levi's background/past for a roleplay blog but it got longer than I'd thought it would and well here I am now :)  
> My excuses for the slang part.. I'm not a native speaker and I'm really bad at writing slang...  
> Enjoy reading and feel free to give me some feedback!

_It was a stormy day when I first met him. Sky and sun hid behind dark clouds and a heavy wind was blowing. But let's start at the beginning. Or, to be more precise, at the beginning of the end._

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I became a thief when I was still a kid. I'd always been, I just hadn't known before.

My father had been a member of the Scouting Legion. And he came always back, full of pride. Today I know that he only was because his pride was the only thing he could hold on to, but back then for me and my friends he was a hero.

And one day he didn't make it back. A soldier -one of his friends I guess- saw me and took my hand.

"I'm waiting for my father," I tried to explain to him as he already guided me through the mass of people watching the heroes return.

At home he told me and my mother that my father had died. Totally swallowed by a titan. Nothing remained of him, not even a finger. Mother stood firm until he'd gone and then broke down and cried. I, too, wanted to cry, didn't I? I didn't know. I'd never lost a father before, so I didn't know how to feel about it. I decided to feel nothing for now.

* * *

A few months later, right in the middle of my seventh summer, the last bit of our savings had been exhausted and we had to move out. The new house, one we could afford with mother taking two new jobs, was in one of the outer districts of Shinganshina. It was a poor and dirty area with poor and dirty people.

Most of the time, mother was at work to earn us a living and pay for my school. I did my best to learn and to help her with keeping the house clean, but what I could do wasn't enough. I could see how it made her weak and weaker with each day. The pure amount of work swallowed her -like the titan had done with my father. Her titan might had have another form, but it killed her either way.

My mother was a strong woman. But the loss of my father, the burden of carrying the weight of our lifes all alone and every new day killed her, slowly, patiently.

First, her smile faded. That was at the beginning, when she recieved news of what had happened to my father. She tried to smile for me, but it was a crooked, empty echo of her original smile and she gave up on it soon.

She became thin, like really thin to the point where even I could say it wasn't healthy anymore. It _couldn't_ be healthy when you could see her bones through her skin, could it?

And when she had become a ghost of her former self, weakened by her titan which you could call life, the dirt finished her off. It made her ill, breaking down with a high fever next to the table where I found her when I came back home from school. That day was the last day for me to go to school. There always were some illnesses going around in the part of the town where we lived, but usually you wouldn't die because of them. Most of the people just continued going to work and didn't stay at home because they couldn't. Staying at home would've meant less money and maybe even losing your job to someone who was able to work. There were enough unemployed who'd gladly do anything.

And that was why illnesses spread sometimes. My mother's body already was too weak to take it; I somehow managed to get her into her bed thanks to me being taller than most of the other seven year olds. Calling a doctor wouldn't do -we hadn't got enough money to pay a good one and the others were just quacks. They'd make it worse so I did what I could by myself.

I put wet towels on her forehead. I cooked her a clear soup with everything good I could find. I watched over her sleep, day and night and most of the time I fell asleep next to her.

Have I to mention I didn't went to school any longer? I guess not. It was normal for some kids to quit suddenly when they had to start working to help their families.

It came a day where no food remained and no money to buy some either.

Mother was sleeping as she was most of the time.

I would be back as fast as I could. Right after I'd done what I'd have to. I didn't want to steal, but I didn't know what else to do. There was nobody else to rely on; everyone who lived here had to look after himself. And it was not like I was the only one who had to take this last option.

The side streets I used as a short cut to the market were dirty and smelled horribly. I tried to avoid the biggest rubbish heaps, even though it wasn't easy. One time I skirted one of them just to step right into a dead bird.

Eyes that didn't see anymore searched for a blue sky that hid behind dark-grey clouds. Looked like it was going to rain again soon. The tiny wings were broken and soaked from the last shower and mud. Somehow that made me sad and I turned my eyes away. Birds were supposed to freely fly everywhere they wanted to. They were supposed to see everything from far above, leaving all sorrows at the ground where we, who hadn't been blessed with wings, lived our tiny, unimportand lifes.

I moved on.

* * *

The market place was crowded with people and stalls. This and the fact that I still was a kid helped a lot. Nobody payed attention to a kid.

Crowded, dirty, messed-up -I didn't know which one described the place best. They all fit though.

Merchants -not the rich, glamorous kind, but the filthy one- shouted out for possible customers. The customers, most of them, men and women, were workers, didn't take their eyes off their money for longer than it took to make a fast deal. I hadn't expected something else.

_What to do now..._

Suddenly something hit me from behind and I fell. The man shouted at me for standing in the way as he already moved on.

Nobody else cared -I didn't expect them to- and I got up. And then, when I wiped off the dust from my clothes, it striked me. How I could get food.

* * *

Stealing was far more easy than I'd thought. I accidentally "fell" like ten times and I got some carrots, a potato, two apples and bread. A whole loaf of bread. Seemed like I always had been a thief and just hadn't known till now.

I couldn't carry more, so I headed back home.

Mother was still sleeping; I hoped she'd been all the time. I made a soup with the potato and the carrots. It wasn't really good but it was the best I could do. Then I cut off some bread and brought it to mother.

"Wake up, mother," I said and my own voice sounded strange in my ears. When had been the last time I'd spoken? Mother didn't respond. Strange. She didn't sleep well enough to not being waked from the smallest noises.

I put down the little meal on the nightstand next to her bed.

"Mother?" Louder now, worried. I shook her shoulder. She was cold already.

She was also pale, but she had been for a long time.

"But I made soup!" The words slipped my mouth as I realized my mother had died -most likely when I hadn't been here. She'd died alone because of me.

My body felt numb and I couldn't think clearly. This wasn't like loosing father had been. I'd hardly ever seen him, he had rather been a hero to me, and heroes weren't supposed to be close to you.

But mother had born and raised me. She'd been there for all my life and now she was gone and I was all alone.

I had to bury her somehow. God, how should I even do that? I wasn't strong enough to carry her somewhere, dig a grave and put her in. Since she was so thin I could've even been physically strong enough.

_I just can't do that. I just can't..._

But I'd have to. I wasn't dumb, I knew what happened to dead bodies.

_Mummy..._

* * *

When the first raindrops hit me I realized I must've went outside. The rain started and I just stood there and let myself get soaked wet. I liked rain. It somehow managed to wash everything away, your sorrows, your fears and if you stood there long enough maybe even yourself.

I was shivering, because of the cold rain and mother's death and ... _life._ The rain stopped but my face remained wet.

_Ahh... tears._

And still I didn't know what to do next. My mind told me to eat the food cause I couldn't afford to waste it but just thinking about food and eating made me sick.

_Mummy, what to do?_

But she couldn't answer me any longer. I hadn't called her Mummy since I'd been... I couldn't even remember calling her that way any time.

"Ya alright boy?" I winced when a big, heavy hand suddenly lay down on my shoulder.

"Hoo don't 'cha be 'fraid, kay?" The man, as big and heavy looking as his hand felt, had a strong accent. He must've grown up on this streets to get that.

"I only wanna help ya." Sure. Like hell I would believe that. Not if the words came from such a rough-looking guy. I knew there were more bad than good people, especially here.

"Ya don't know what ta do, don't 'cha?"

How could he even tell that?

He shrug his shoulders. "Surprised? Ya just look like ya need some help." He turned his head upwards and then looked back at me. "But why, I wonder?"

I realised that I wouldn't get any other help than this -if he would help me. And I needed help more than anything else right now. If I'd had a chance I wouldn't rely on somebody like him but I hadn't. Life wasn't fair and I had to survive somehow. And I couldn't survive alone yet.

"She's dead and I'm not strong enough to bury her." The words came out fast together with a gross sob. I'd thought I'd been done crying.

"Well then... Where's 'she' and what're ya willing to gimme 'n ma friends if we helped ya?" He had waited for that, I could tell from the look in his eyes. He was like an animal, instinctively knowing that he could get something from me and he wouldn't hesitate to take it.

Slouchy, giving in to whatever life had got for me, I nod and told him that I only had a house. His eyes widened a bit; he seemed interested. What should I do with a house anyway?

"Mother is inside... I can't carry her alone... Please help me."

As soon as I'd said that he let out a little whistle and two other guys came out of the side streets.

"We'll do ya tha' favour if we get tha' house plus anythin' inside. Agreed?"

Again I couldn't do anything else than nod. "Agreed," I whispered, but they didn't hear me. They'd moved already and as they edged themselves into our house I was pushed aside and left alone.

When they came out again a few minutes later the muscle-man and crooked-nose carried a body wrapped in a blanket. Mother. My mother, who'd been the biggest part of my life, had turned into some kind of burden, some _thing_ which only could be thrown away. They left without noticing me, while piggy-eyes stayed and entered the house again, maybe to figure out what they could sell. There were some things that would make good money. Things I hadn't sold because they had been precious to my mother.

There also were things that were precious to me, little objects of no value for someone else. But I'd hidden them, I didn't even know why. Maybe it had just been the urge of every little boy to hide a treasure, the urge for an adventure. There was a loose board right next to the bottom of my bed. Behind that was a little space were I'd put my treasures: A picture of my parents, arm in arm and as happy as young. Mother had given it to me when I'd asked about father. She'd explained that he'd been a hero. Back then I'd still believed her.

My second treasure was a stud. Mother had told me that it belonged to my father's uniform. And even when I lost faith in him, even when I began to think about how much I could hate him if it wasn't for mother who still loved him when he was long gone, I'd kept it. It was some kind of relict from another me, a much younger and more naive me that I didn't want to lose totally.

There were other things, wooden toys from when I'd been not more than a toddler, again some of them had been made by my father. Maybe I just didn't want to lose my connection to the only family I'd ever had.

I would go in there, take them and then I'd disappear before they'd come back. I was confident to be able to stay unseen by piggy-eyes.

I sneaked into the little kitchen through the back door. This had been the room were I had found my mother. How could I even be doing this? My mother had just died and I was breaking in our house which I had given away to some strangers. Some dangerous strangers for sure.

There was a loud noise coming from my mother's room, followed by heavy swearing. It reminded me of my situation; I was taking a high risk. I couldn't afford being distracted by sadness, I had to hurry and get out again as fast as I could.

I tip-toed into my room and tried to avoid every noise. The beating of my heart alone seemed loud enough to tell piggy-eyes I was here. Piggy-eyes and everybody within ten miles at least.

I knelt next to my bed where the loosened board was. An adult's fingers never would've fit in the small gap I was about to pull.

"My, my."

I winced and turned around only to face the muscle man; their leader.

How could they be back already?

"What do we have here. There's a little rat in my house. Or rather a mongrel." He emphasized 'my house' to make sure I'd understand.

Answering him took all my courage.

"I just wanted to take some things without any value, Sir." My voice was low and shaky and not at least firm and confident. "Please don't kill me, I-I'll leave!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think so," he said. "Remember ya said anythin' in this house would be mine? Well you're in my house now. So ya´ll stay 'n help us out a bit, mongrel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! So, what do you think about it? Feel free to tell me about what you liked or disliked! Feedback is always appreciated :)


	2. Mongrel, maggot, dirty brat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there :) I just wanted to tell you that from here on out I don't have a plan for what I'm doing x'D (well I have for some major things but not really OTL )... So I don't know when I'll upload the next chapter :) Enjoy reading~

"And what the fuck did ya think ya were sayin'?!" Gunnar grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall. He raised me until my feet didn't touch the floor anymore and I was at his eye-level.

Dark, brute eyes, rather slits right now. One mistake, one wrong word or movement and he would bash me up until I _couldn't_ move, I knew that much.

"Nothing, Sir," I croaked out. "I'm sorry!"

It had been four years since they'd decided to... _keep_ me. You may say I could have just made a run for it. When they slept for sure. But just where should I have gone? I had been seven years old, the only other option left for me had been the streets and I'd known I wouldn't survive there yet. Chances of surviving had been higher with than without them, although I hated to admit.

So I stayed with them. They let me do the scutwork, whatever they came up with. If I did something wrong they hit me; not that they needed a reason for that. A bad day was reason enough.

I learned the true meaning of the word hate in that four years. Hate, pure hate, the burning desire to kill all three of them in a way as painful as possible. I often dreamed of suffocating Gunnar, the "muscle man" as I had first called him. He was their leader and the only one to choke me. The others, Herman and Fredrik, I killed in many different ways in my imagination.

Sometimes the words piled up in my head slipped through my lips, always quietly, but when I was unlucky one of them heard me. It weren't nice words. In the worst case it was Gunnar who heard them. Well he just had.

He frowned and let out a grunt as he took his hand away causing me to fall back down.

"Yer lucky, mongrel. I need ya to work this evenin'. Get outta ma sight now!"

I bobbed up and mumbled another "I'm sorry, Sir. Won't happen again," while I already did as he'd told me to.

I'd become pretty good at being invisible. It helped that I hadn't grown that much in the last few years though. When I had been taller than most people of my age in the beginning, over the last four years I had become smaller due to malnutrition. They gave me enough food to survive... well as much as you would give to a mongrel.

They ran a club in Hooker's Alley, a filthy, pseudo-noble establishment were scantily dressed women danced for rich folks. Most of them were merchants who had made good money, or people who'd inherited some. Very very few of them, at very, very rare times, were nobles from inside wall Sina. 'I had to work' meant that this evening it was my turn robbing those naive fools.

Gunnar and his men had quite some children in their hands who worked for them. Unlike me they were free though, all of them living in the streets and hired. Some of them got food for their work and some others money; when they tried to betray Gunnar they got nothing but pain.

There'd been only one ever trying to cheat and take what he'd heisted. I didn't remember his name, but Gunnar, Fredrik and Herman had made a cruel example of him. I did remember his eyes though, grey and widened in fear, and later on closed in pain. They'd made us watch it.

" _Listen, kids,_ " Gunnar had said before they'd got started. " _Me 'n ma friends are nice. We give ya a job. We pay ya'll one way or the other._ " He had started to pace up and down in front of us, eyeing every single one as he passed by. " _Ya'll get somethin' for you work. 'N all I want from you is bein' good kids._ "

He had turned around to Fredrik who had held the poor little guy with one hand. The thin, dirty figure had struggled to get away but it had been no use. Gunnar had looked at him and shook his head.

" _You've been a bad boy, haven't ya?_ " he said. At this point the boy had given up on struggling.

I could've warned him if he'd told me anything about his plans. I could've told him how cruel they were, that they were bad enough if you didn't give them a reason to get mad at you. I hadn't though and I watched what they called his punishment without any feeling of sympathy. I didn't know him and being beaten up was part of my everyday life.

The others had been shocked by the cruelty or whatever and that I hadn't shown any reaction other than being bored maybe, gained me even more respect than they already showed me. There was some kind of hierachy between us kids, and because I had been the first one I was ranked highest.

Actually I had given Gunnar the idea to use children as thiefs in his establishment. Two years ago Fredrik had been frustrated about something and he had been searching for me to get it off his chest. I hid and made myself as small as possible. He called out for me but I didn't answer and in the end Gunnar joined him in his search and even together they only found me through coincedence. Halfway through beating me up for hiding Gunnar had held Fredrik back.

I'd curled up on the floor, arms over my head for protection. When I'd noticed that they'd stopped I had let out a last whimper and hesitantly looked up.

From that day onwards they had used me to get invisible in the establishment and steal from the guests. I hadn't been noticed a single time. After some months had passed they had started hiring other streetkids as well and by now we had become like 20 or so, but I had made sure they'd know I was not at their level. Maybe I wasn't more than a dirty mongrel or a punchbag to Gunnar and his men, but among the other kids I was the leader, the one closest to Gunnar. Not that I'd done much, or that I ever spoke to one of them if not to make my status clear.

If I had to work this evening it was natural that they'd not beat me. This way it was easier to stay unseen.

* * *

When I arrived at the club later in the evening I immedeatly saw why I had to do the job today.

The big room wasn't as crowded as usual making everything worse. It smelled of poignet perfumes and the stuff they smoked. Because of that the air was kinda blurred in here (which was good because it made it easier to hide.)

In the middle of the room there was the stage where only five women danced at the moment. Around the stage were loosely arranged tables, but only three of them were occupied.

The other dancers entertained the groups at the rectangles to the sides. I headed over to the left hand corner, the place really nobody paid attention to. It faced the stage and anybody without a dancer on his table or his lap looked over there.

From here I scanned the room; at leats two of the guests had to be from inside wall Sina. They had tried to disguise themselves with what they thought were simple clothes. Naive fools. I visited them first.

The trick was not to take everything. I left some coins in their purses to rattle so they wouldn't get suspicious. I used to carry a little bag with me where I put my prey in. After robbing the two nobles it was filled already and I had to go to the backroom to tip it out.

This room was half as big as the one with the stage. Tables with mirrors on them were lined up here, leaving a path in the middle leading to the table one of Gunnar's men usually sat at. This was where the dancers used to change their clothes, take breaks and do their make-up in. Four women were in here, all of them looking into the mirrors to check their appearance.

My eyes searched for the one I knew as I walked through the tables; her name was Mary and she was the only person in my life to be a tiny little bit nice to me. Who knew where I'd be today without her?

I found her chocolate brown, curly hair, passed it, but did nothing yet. At the farther end of the room Herman was waiting, observing everything and making sure nothing went wrong. I handed him the bag.

"So much already?" Herman wondered, raising an eyebrow.

"Two nobles from inside Sina," I muttered.

"I see. Back to work then, ya dirty little maggot!" With that he left the room through the back door, taking the money with him. As far as I knew he brought it somewhere they considered 'safe', a place where they kept everything.

I turned around as well, made my way back through the two lines of tables. This time, however, I stopped when I reached Mary. She'd known I'd do that. That's what I always did. I only talked to her when whoever was watching was gone for the short period of time they needed to take away the money.

Mary knew I didn't want Gunnar and his men to discover that I actually knew one of their dancers. I didn't want them to know anything about my life I could hide because Mary was the only good thing in it and thus she was a weakness.

I myself was far too weak, looking like an 8 or 9 year old when I had to be around 11. It was enough I couldn't defend myself when they hit me, when they strangled or laughed at me curling up on the floor to at least protect my face.

Mary ruffled my hair lightly and gave me a gentle smile. "How're you doing, little Mr. Invisible?" she asked and I couldn't do anything but return the smile. The other dancers ignored us as they always did. Most of them didn't do this job out of their free will. They rather were loyal to Mary than Gunnar -at least in this matter.

"I'm okay," I replied.

She let out a snort. "You're not, you little liar. You're nothing but skin and bones -when was the last time you ate something?" Her tone reminded me of a mother scolding her child.

"What day is it?" I asked.

"Thursday," she sighed.

I thought about it for a moment. "It's two days then. The last time I ate something was Monday I guess... C'mon that's not so long."

Suddenly Mary looked really sad. "It is," she said. "And it's rather three days -today is almost over."

 _Oh shit_ I really didn't intend to make her worry. I wanted her to smile -I needed her to smile. What an egoistic little brat I was.

"Don't worry, Mar. I'm gonna get something before the day is over, I promise!" I always did. I wasn't little Mr. Invisible for nothing. The days I had to work were always good ones, not only because they didn't beat me too much. I considered these days good ones also because I would always steal some food. It satisfied me cause indirectly I would steal from the ones I hated the most. It was one of the very few things -if not the only one- I could do. My way of rebelling against them, so to speak.

Mary knew about this as well and she smiled again, still a bit sad but at least she smiled.

We wouldn't get more time today. Herman came back and I had to become invisible again. I made my way back to the door and back to work without being noticed.

This time I didn't steal as much; filling the bag one time was enough for a good evening. I'd make it half full one more time but for now I could relax a bit and get something to eat first as I'd promised Mary.  
  
The food wasn't as good or as delicious as it had to be inside wall Sina, but that wasn't that important. The nobles smoked the most of that stuff which I tried to avoid to breath in as good as possible.

It was some kind of weed and it made them numb in a certain way, with a silly grin on their faces.

Even I could feel that, my thoughts and movements slowed down the longer I stayed in that wicked room. I knew that some of the other kids liked that effect, though, that some of them stayed longer than they had to.

I got some bread with roast on it and on top of that one of the small cakes that were only served to the nobles because they were so rare. I had only gotten one of these two times before and it was the best thing I had ever tasted: It somehow melted in my mouth and for a few minutes I allowed myself to be on cloud nine.

I hid some more bread in my pockets for later -who knew when I'd get that chance again.

I could've eaten more -I never could have had enough to eat- but I had to watch time and I already began to feel numb.  
  
When I filled my bag a second time, the man I robbed almost noticed me because I was too slow, too clumsy already.

I had to get out of here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Liked this chapter? Comment, inbox me, whatever you want :) Give me some feedback about what you liked or what I could do better!


	3. Nightly encounters

"That's not enough for such a long time," Herman stated when I stood in front of him again. "What've ya done, brat?" He didn't even wait for an answer. I knew that kick was coming. Usually I moved a little so that it wouldn't hurt that much, but my reflexes were still numb. He hit me at full strength and sent me flying. I fell on the floor and let out a quiet whimper as I hold my hurting side and bobbed up.

"Next time ya don't waste so much fuckin' time, brat!" he griped.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Won't happen again."

It worried me to have needed so long. It worried me because I hadn't noticed myself. I had lost control in there. How long would it take me to get addicted to that smoke as well?

I was hit again, more lightly this time but it still hurt.

"What 'cha wastin' time for?" Herman asked impatiently. "Ya wanna get another one? Get home now!"

* * *

It was dark already and I shivered in my thin jacket. I could've been frightened; these were dangerous streets at night. There were people hiding in the shadows, in the corners, people who waited for someone weak like me to pass by.

But they wouldn't touch Gunnar's property and that's what I was. I didn't know anyone who wouldn't have feared Gunnar and his men. It was not because they were so many -three was nothing, not even a real gang in any other case. It was because of their cruelty. Because even the thought of what Gunnar would do to them if they touched me or anything else Gunnar considered 'his' made the toughest guy shiver.

I saw them at the corner of my eyes as I made my way back ... _home_. I saw human-shaped shadows moving at the edge of my sight. But they avoided me, just like I avoided the rubbish heaps.

I was safe in the dark. I wished I could've stayed longer. Because I was heading towards the lights of my home and that was the dangerous place. Maybe Gunnar was still mad at me for insulting them earlier. Most likely he was. He wasn't one to forget and now that I didn't have to work anymore there was no reason to hold back. Would he go as far as breaking my arm this time?

Suddenly I found myself pressed against a wall.

 _What..._ _?_

"What 'cha doin' here, kid?" a low voice asked. Surprised as I was, finding myself eye in eye with a bony man, I didn't say a word. Was he trying to rob me, actually? Was he insane? Or having a death wish maybe? His stupidity left me speechless. He even had a knife, pressing it against my throat where it left a little scratch. Far too little to be dangerous or even noticed.

"Don't 'cha be 'fraid, kiddo. Just gimme what ya have there 'n ya won't get hurt." Did he mistake me for a normal streetkid? I wondered if he knew he was almost a dead man. 

A second shadow rushed forward and became a man. This one was a bit smaller than the other. He pulled the bony one away from me. 

"Are ya crazy ya goddamn piece of shit?!" he hissed. "Don't 'cha know whom that kid belongs to?!"

He turned to me and his expression became apologizing. "Sorry kid," he said. "He's new and moved without permission. Ya won't... tell _him_ , will ya?"

I was nothing. For four years now I had been not more than a mongrel -actually I'd been lower than one. But in this second I realized that to these men I was a big threat. If I told Gunnar about this they'd be dead -and at least one of them knew. Their lifes were in my hands.

"I don't know," I replied and enjoyed the power I had gained so suddenly. "Why should I not?" Seeing their faces turn pale -the bony one who'd attacked me seemed to begin to understand- satisfied me in a way I couldn't really describe.

"Ya see, boy, this isn't a game or somethin'. There're lifes on the line; be a good boy, will ya?" As if I didn't know that! Did he think I was so naive, so dumb? Until now I had been playing around, enjoying that little bit of power that had appeared out of nowhere. His words, however, made me angry. Maybe I would snitch on them.

I sighed mentally. I wouldn't. Deep inside I knew I wouldn't let them die because I hated to waste lifes. I had seen too many lifes disappear already and I still did. My father had been the first one, along with so many others who'd tried to leave the walls. And it hadn't stopped, they still tried and tried, only to get something back that was long gone. Mother had followed father soon.

And then there were the people around, people who suffered illnesses, beggars who just died on the streets -so many lifes gone to waste for nothing. And the nobles just sat inside wall Sina living their luxurious lifes on our cost; getting fat and fatter with each day while whole families out here starved to dead...

I forced myself back to now, back to the two figures in front of me I had decided I wouldn't kill. They didn't know about that, though. I would have some more fun with them before I'd let them run.

I knit my brows. "Isn't it?" I asked. "I thought it was." My voice sounded dangerous. Just like Gunnar's did when he threatened me. I hadn't known I could do that -so I had learned something in that four years, except for becoming invisible. I was only eleven years old, looking rather than I was eight or nine, but my imitation of Gunnar let me seem bigger than I was, older. More dangerous. I could see how they sweat. How they shivered, imagining what could happen to them if they didn't convince me right now.

And all that because of me? The punchbag? The mongrel? The dirty little piece of shit Gunnar and his men fed in their grace, as they wouldn't get tired to tell me?

"O-Oi, kid, ya not serious, are ya?" The smaller one tried to smile but for some reason it didn't work. "Ya can't t-tell him!"

I looked him dead in the eye. "Two guys," I started. "The first one tall and bony, with mud-coloured, short hair and a face like a horse. Has got a knife with a bent blade. Doesn't wear shoes." I shifted my attention to the other one. "The second one smaller, with black, shoulder long hair. Seems to carry a knife as well. Has got a scar over his left cheekbone, roughly as long as my little finger I'd say. Both of them wearing normal canvas clothing, brown and dirty. Do you think that's enough for him to find you wherever you hide? I think so..." I said in a musing tone.

"Boy-"

"It's Levi," I interrupted him. I hadn't heard nor used my own name for such a long time that I'd almost forgotten about it. I was tired of getting called 'boy', sick of hearing 'mongrel', 'rat' and 'dirty maggot'.

Levi was my name, the name my mother had given to me. She'd explained to me that it meant 'my heart'. One time she had told me that when I was born she had a feeling of her own heart moving with me, the center of herself and her world moving to the crying little bundle that had been me. That was, as she had told me, the love of a mother, something I couldn't even imagine. I shouldn't be thinking about mother now.

"Alright, then, _Levi_. Listen, Levi. It's our lifes on the line and we'd like to live for a bit. So... is there something we can do to convince you otherwise?" The scarred one's voice was dripping with fear.

"Ya could fight to death and I at least won't snitch on the one who survived," I said airily.

I smiled when I saw them cringe. "Just jokin'," I assured them.

I would have to end this soon, or Gunnar would beat me up not only for insulting them but also for being late. Just a little bit longer. I was quite sure I wouldn't get a chance like this again. Shadows were watching out of their corners; this would spread -hopefully it wouldn't reach Gunnar's ears- and I highly doubted anybody would ever do something like this again.

"What 'cha playin' at?!" the tall guy almost shouted. He was at his limits, fearing for his life only because of a kid not even half as tall as him.

"I like that knife yer have there," I said to the bony guy, pretending to not have heared him.

"Fine then." He gave it to me. "Ya can have it! In return ya'll spare our lifes, alright Levi?"

I hadn't got more time anyways. A knife -even if it looked as exotic and rare as this one- wasn't much for two lifes. Then again, nothing would make up for a life. I'd take the knife as a souvenir and leave them be.

"Get outta ma sight 'n I'll forget 'bout this."

They looked leery but retreated back in the shadows where they disappeared. They hadn't got another choice than to trust me though. I couldn't believe this had happened but the weight of the knife in my hand reminded me of it. I wanted to hide it somewhere, but putting it in my shoes would be too dangerous since I only had the knife but no sheath. Gunnar would take it for sure if he was to find it. 

He was mad at me already, which was bad enough. All three of them would get mad if I came home late, and I already was. And if I'd come home not just late but also with a knife... I couldn't imagine what would happen. I didn't think they'd kill me or break more than my ribs because this way I was still of use to them. But there was nothing holding them back from beating me senseless.

They had done so for far less. In the end I decided to just wrap the knife in my jacket; if I was lucky they wouldn't notice it. It was cold and my jacket was thin but it had been better than nothing and now I really felt cold.

As I continued making my way back home, shivering, the knife hidden in the jacket in my arms, I could almost hear the shadows whisper. They spread what had happened, talked about it until everybody knew.

I was not sure which parts of what they told each other were true and which were made up. Stories that get told again and again tend to evolve into something else. A big man becomes an ogre, a knife becomes a sword, until nothing from the original story is left.

The streets were peaceful and quiet, not even someone shouting. Because of that my thoughts were louder than usual, screaming at me instead of just whispering in the back of my head.

 _Telling them your name was no good idea._  

_You should've known better._

_mother..._

_HOW DARE YOU EVEN THINK THAT WORD! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO LET HER DIE!_

_She died alone because of you. Are you satisfied now?_

_You got what you deserve._

_mummy..._

_SHE WOULD STILL LIVE IF IT WASN'T FOR YOU! IF SHE HAD HAD A BETTER CHILD!_

_B-But Mummy loved me. I was her heart..._  

_HOW COULD SOMEONE LOVE YOU, YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN A PARASITE!_

I shook my head in confusion. I couldn't let that voices convince me. My mother had been a strong and gentle, loving woman. She had told me I was her heart. She had loved me. 

_Leave him be. He's just a kid. He was seven back then, did what he could._

_Mary..._

Sometimes, when that voices of guilt and sadness took over it was Mary's voice that saved me. She quieted them, calmed them down until they became a whisper again. I wiped away the tears and held back the ones that still wanted to come out. 

I knew I was just imagining Mary's voice but it felt as if she'd hugged me. It felt as if she'd put her arms around me, protecting me from that other voices which were so much weaker than her. If it wasn't for Mary I really didn't know where I would be today.

I arrived at home without any other disturbances. The dark behind me still was peaceful and quiet, the light shining out of the windows in front of me was making me hesitate. I had to get in there, although I knew what was coming. The calming effect of Mary's voice faded. She didn't belong here. 

This was my battleground. And as always, I would lose without even having a real fight.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Levi's name : ) I'm quite interested in names and their meaning. I did a little bit of research and most of the time as a meaning for Levi only "joined", "linked" or "loyal" is given. I did, however, find a site as well were it's translated from Hebrew as "my heart". I have a scene in mind (much later though so it will take quite some time) for the other meanings ^o^  
> If you could give me some feedback till then I'd be very glad! Thanks for reading :)


	4. Nothing again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter only got done thanks to beautiful Darya who helped me a lot by pointing out what was missing (and so obvious, too) when I couldn't see.

I sneaked in, pressing the bundle of my jacket against my chest. I crouched to whatever might come and thanks to that I managed to evade the cup thrown by Fredrik. It shattered at the door, right where my head had been only a second ago.

Seemed like they were mad. Gunnar was sitting at the table, relaxed like always, looking up when Fredrik threw the cup. Fredrik and Herman were standing at his sides; Herman being the first one to move though. He collared me, picked me up and threw me right at Gunnar's feet. I moaned quietly, still pressing the jacket against my chest.

Gunnar's head appeared above me. "Just look what we have here," he said in surprise. "A little rat." He got serious again. "I'll give ya one try to explain what took ya so long to get here."

"Got... held up," I replied, still having trouble breathing.

"Held up by whom?" Gunnar started to listen attentively.

Like hell I would tell him. I was serious about not letting them die. "No one."

Fredrik kicked the side that still hurt and I could feel some of my ribs breaking already. They hadn't even gotten started.

Gunnar put out his hand to hold him back. "Ya talk now while ya still can, mongrel." His voice became more dangerous and I noticed that I had been mistaken. I wasn't even half way through mastering that. "I'm pissed already 'n ya don't wanna see me get angrier."

No, I didn't. I knew. But also I wouldn't tell him about that guys from before. "I got held up. Can't remember them, sorry." He didn't take that lie -I wouldn't have if I was him.

"What 'cha think ya are, opposin' me like that?" Gunnar asked, his voice dangerously low. "Ya goddamn lil' piece of shit! Ya'd be dead without us 'n still ya just causin' trouble!"

He grabbed my arm and pulled me up. I hadn't expected that; the grip around my jacket loosened and it fell. The knife's handle made a thud and their attention shifted to where it lay on the floor.

"Now what the fuck is that?!" Fredrik shouted, while Herman picked it up.

"A knife?" Gunnar said, surprised for real now. "Just where the acutal fuck did ya get a goddamn knife, maggot?"

I stood as firm as I could, holding my hurting side as inconspicuously as possible. "Got it from the guys who held me up. Give it back!"

The second I said that I knew it had been a mistake. I couldn't remember ever talking to Gunnar like that -usually I didn't intend to make him mad. But I still was over-confident because of earlier and the words had slipped my mouth before I could even realize I had turned into nothing again when I'd opened the door.

Gunnar grabbed me by the throat and stood up, holding me at his eye-level. The sudden loss of air hit me harder than a fist. My vision got blurry and although I saw Gunnar's lips move I could barely understand what he was saying.

I could feel his hand though -to be honest that was the only thing I could feel right now. It was huge and so much stronger than me; it didn´t move an inch although I was trying to push it away using all of my power.

Gunnar's face, the room, the world began to fade. Safe darkness. Peaceful silence.

 _Give in_ , the darkness lured with a gentle, calm voice. _Give in. Become one with me. Rest._

All in all I couldn't decide if the voice was male or female, it seemed both. At the same time, however, it was Mary's. Somehow it sounded just like Mary comforting me, telling me I'd done great so far. She did that often, praising how brave I was to still be there when life had decided to throw everything against me it had got.

I gave up on struggling. Rest sounded so good. All I wanted -all I needed- was to rest.

 _No._ I would not getting deceived by that. _I want it to be your voice, Mar, I want it so badly because I need something good in here too._ Wherever 'here' was. And still I knew it wasn't what Mary would've said. She would've told me the opposite, to get back, out of the darkness and back into the light at all cost. Because life might be hard but it also was unique and I would only live if I managed to get back, but, on the other hand, vanish while becoming one with the dark. 

No matter how much I loved the peace, the numbness. To feel nothing at all as I did right now was so comforting, but I couldn't disappoint the only one to care about me actually. And she would be disappointed, knowing I could've made it if only I tried. Even more so, even worse, she would be sad.

I didn't know why Mary who after all was just a dancer at Gunnar's establishment, cared for me so much but she did. And if I didn't tell her about how I got some food that evening, how I got home safe even though of that incident... I couldn't even think about it. Never would I loose to the darkness when it meant making _her_ worry or even cry.

 _There's nothing wrong with that, Levi,_ a new voice said, also gentle but definitely female and so well known to me as well.  _I gave in to the darkness as well and I am happy now.  
_

Mother came out of the shadows, smiling her gentle smile at me, totally at ease and healthy. She looked like she did on that picture of her I still owned. Gunnar had interrupted me before actually taking out my treasures, when I still had been about to reach out for the loosened board. I never took them out and I knew they were still there. 

Mother was smiling at me again. _I'm happy now,_ she repeated and my heartbeat became faster seeing she was honest without hiding any secret pain or illness or something. She was happy, and so was I. She was here and thus I wanted to stay but I knew I couldn't; I didn't belong here, not yet.

I would join her some day, when I had grown old if everything worked out as I wanted it to. But I still was young, eleven or twelve years old. Today was not that day.

 _You will stay, Levi, won't you?_ Even hearing her calling me by my name was too much already. She had that special tone that told me I was loved, that tone that applied to mothers only. _Look, we can live happily together from now on._

While she said that, we were no longer standing in the dark. No more shadows around us but our kitchen. Our house I only remembered vaguely, not the one that had been taken over by Gunnar alongside with me. Everything was there.

 _All that's missing is you, Levi. I've been waiting for you to join me._ We _have._

I could hear the door I knew was in my back opening; I could feel the little gust. A huge hand rested on my shoulder for a second before the man I recognised to be my father passed me. He gave mother a gentle smile and lay his arm around her, both of them now smiling at me. Mother reached out for me.

 _Come join us,_ she said.

I really wanted to. I wanted to have a family again. I wanted a life where I was more than a burden to everyone, more than a dirty mongrel some cruel guys had the grace to feed. But something in this picture was disturbing, nagging in the back of my head.

And then I noticed what it was: It was nothing more than a picture, static and not able to change. It couldn't change because they were long gone. Once a person had died there was no way for them to come back.

As I realized this, I took a step back and father's image changed: The wings on the back of his cape became real ones and he became some creature that wasn't human, something between a human and a bird. And he raised from the ground, farther away, until I could not see him any longer. He just disappeared, right through the ceiling. It was strange and shocking and it left me and mother alone again.

Mother broke down, crying now. _What have you done, Levi?,_ she asked and the look in her eyes and the tears in her voice broke my heart. _What have you done? You are killing me._

That was not true, I knew she already was dead. And yet she was here, with me, dying because I had refused to be a part of that picture even if being part of it had been all I wanted. And yet it hadn't felt right, yet I had rejected them, causing father to leave and mother to die. I turned around, I needed to get out of here. _Escape, out of the door, anywhere that's not here!_ I couldn't think about something else.

But as soon as I opened the door I found nothing but darkness again; this was not the real world, our house had just been a pretty image, a picture. I was trapped here, no way out, not for me.

_I am going to die. Maybe I'm dead already... I'm so sorry Mar. I couldn't make it, I didn't try when I would've had to and now it's to late. I'm in too deep._

Something hit me and I realized I still had a body.

"Breath!" a familiar voice shouted.

Who was it again...? Didn't matter. The voice had told me to breath and I obeyed. I noticed I was on my knees, supporting myself against the floor. I felt the wooden floorboards beneath my fingers and then everything was consumed by the fire in my chest.

My lungs burned while I coughed and coughed, keeping my eyes shut while I concentrated on breathing. Somehow it worked, although it hurt like hell.

_Fucking shitheads, all of them! I'll get back on them, for everything, I swear! I'm gonna kill them, I'm gonna..._

I knew I couldn't do that; not now, not as I was, and I had no chance to get stronger so I could face even one of them. And I hated myself for that as well. I just hated everything -everything except Mary maybe, because I could never hate her. 

"Y'almost killed 'im!" I managed to look up for a second before a severe pain ran through my head again causing me to recoil. Fredrik was holding back Gunnar; he had taken his arm and it looked like it was thanks to him that Gunnar's grip had loosened. Herman was standing next to me. It had been his voice and most likely he had been the one who had kicked me. Or maybe he'd hit me, it made no difference.

"I'm not done with ya yet," Gunnar snarled, but he controlled himself. I had never heard him like that. I had heard him shouting, threatening, insulting -but never had I heard Gunnar using _this_ tone.

_Next days are gonna be rough..._

"Who was it?! Who dared to touch ma property?!"

I took a deep breath. "Please, I don't know!" I coughed. "I'm sorry, Sir! I don't know, I don't know..." I kept lying although I knew he didn't believe me. He had to be well aware of my lie, there was no way he wasn't. I curled up, repeating, mumbling "I don't know" more to myself than to him. It was like some kind of mantra, some kind of prayer people repeated over and over talking to gods that didn't exist. And still they believed in them, still they told everybody they were inside the walls or something, I didn't know in detail.

Just like them I kept mumbling, hoping that if I only said the words out loud often enough they would become the truth.

"Hold on a sec," Herman said. It was the first time he'd spoken since he'd picked up the knife -well the first time he'd spoken when I was conscious. "That looks like it's some damn expensive stuff," he told Gunnar. "That's gems in the handle!"

Gunnar smiled. "Ya had me at 'gems'. How much do ya think?"

"Can't say. Much. Around 300 to 400 bucks? Have to take a closer look first." That was much; I hadn't known, of course not, but if there was one person I knew who could guess the worth and value of objects, it was Herman. If he said 300, it was 300 at least.

They totally forgot about me, discussing about how and when and whom to sell it to. At some point I was able to breath properly again, although I lay down for a while -you'd never know, maybe they'd continue if I moved. Maybe they'd forgotten about me for the moment but everything could change again and I didn't know what I'd do if Gunnar asked even one more time, if one of them hit me one more time for lying.

A knife could never make up for a life, usually, but maybe there were exceptions. Maybe it was enough if the life was as low as mine.

Nothing against such a rare, expensive knife seemed pretty fair.


	5. Rough times

I had been right; the next days became rough ones. Gunnar was around more often and he picked on me whenever he could. I barely had a chance to become invisible. My left eye was a mess, swollen and all black. It hurt but I was used to it, just like I was used to the broken ribs -two actually- and the other bruises. It made anything worse though.

Gunnar gave me tasks I couldn't fulfill, and if there was even the slightest chance for me to make it he set up a timelimit I couldn't beat. I still tried. I had nothing to lose -nothing but my pride.

It was a fragile, instable little thing but it was here, just like I was. And it was the one thing about me I would never allow Gunnar or anybody else to own.

_Who are you kidding? It only takes one movement, one hit for you to turn into a disgusting creature, begging for them to stop._

And still I stood up again after they'd beat me, every time. Only to get beaten again, to stand up again, to...

My life seemed to be made of this, nothing else. Without saying a word about it, Gunnar had forbidden me to work in the club or get out in any other way. He couldn't know about Mar, could he?

I missed her, and that I hadn't seen her in so long hurt the most. It had been almost two weeks and she had to be worried. I was the best kid-thief Gunnar had, I knew that although it didn't change anything. But at some point, he _had_ to use me again, hadn't he? At some point he would have to get over being angry at me for that evening... at least that was what I hoped for.

I didn't see that coming soon. Not only had I opposed him and tried to stand up to him for the first time although that had gone terribly wrong. No, I'd had to talk without any respect, I'd had to actually _demand_ something. Telling him the knife was mine when it was his already, because  _I_ was his. Mongrels were not supposed to talk, I'd learned that quite fast in the beginning. It was one of their standard things to say and usually it was followed by a hit. 

I'd made some huge mistakes and now I had to bear the consequences. And that when I had known what would happen! I just had been so angry... I'd lost control over my emotions and now I was paying for it. And so was Mary. She was always worried, even if I didn't see her for a few days. Usually Gunnar let me work often; I was the best tool he had in his hands when it came to that. And I always did the best I could, because this way I'd work more often and thus see Mary more often.

Her voice, the protection it offered, started to fade, while the other voices got stronger and stronger. I started to have nightmares again. Bad dreams in which the voices confronted me with everything I had failed on.

I had had them a lot before I had met Mary. Funny story though, because she'd been the only one to see me when I still thought I had been invisible; when I'd still been cautious. Her eyes had met mine and she'd just smiled and then cared about her own stuff again.

And later on, after Fredrik had hit me for something before leaving, she'd held me back as I'd been about to pass her again. I couldn't believe my ears when she'd asked if I was alright. My first instinct was to get away; noticing a hand reaching out for me from an unexpected direction never meant something good. Most of the time it meant I'd pissed off somebody, even if it was only because I existed, and was about to get beaten.

I was almost shocked when she only touched my arm lightly, retreating fast as she saw me getting stiff, flinching from a hit that wouldn't come. She'd asked again when I hadn't answered, just stared at her with wide eyes. I must have looked like a real mongrel: small, dirty and all in all just messed-up. One of my shoes had been missing that time, my hair had been a mess -it still was, though. I didn't bother to cut it, just tied it with some old piece of rope and let it be. There was other stuff I had to care about.

She'd asked a third time, in a worried tone now, and even then I only nod and left in confusion; it had taken her quite some time till I even spoke to her. Around that time the nightmares had disappeared, stopped by her voice alone. 

Thanks to Mary I had also gained a few pounds; she scolded me when I didn't eat enough and sometimes she'd even brought me food herself. I hadn't liked that, especially when I'd found out that she had a kid to feed herself and no husband to rely on. She'd got no other option than being a dancer, because this was one of the better jobs already, regarding money at least.

I had thought about stealing food before but not wanting Mary to share hers with me when she'd had a hard time already had given me the last push I'd needed to acutally do it. I'd been afraid of Gunnar, I'd been scared of what would happen if he or one of his subordinates found out, but for Mary I'd gladly taken the risk. 

"I hadn't met you if it wasn't for this job, little Mr. Invisible," she used to tell me whenever I brought up the subject, whenever I tried to convince her that she didn't belong here. I wanted her to find something better, I knew she could and I had a faint suspicion that she only stayed because of me. Mary, however, always turned me down with this argument which actually wasn't even a real argument but rather an excuse.

Not seeing her, not knowing if she was okay, inflicted a physical pain on my body much greater than the one Gunnar gave me. I highly doubted he knew that he was doing the worst possible thing he could do to me already.

* * *

I thought about Mary a lot while I hid in the room that had been mine ages ago. Now it had changed; most of the things they didn't need had been sold, the new space taken by a second bed. I was quite sure nobody would come in suddenly, all three of them were busy with a pitiful guy in the living room.

They did that sometimes, when somebody they'd bargained with tried to betray them. They took them here where they... did whatever they did; I never watched. I didn't need to watch when I could easily imagine most of it; I could look away, close my eyes but not my ears. I heard Gunnar, Fredrik and Herman shout, I heard the strangers scream sometimes, beg, until I heard nothing anymore.

They weren't dead, just too worn out to be heard where I was. I didn't think that even Gunnar would kill somebody that easily; that was not his style. Not because he had problems with killing -as I thought he was very well capable of that- but because he wanted people to suffer. He wanted information and if he didn't want information he just took his anger out on whoever it was who had awakened it.

This one was of the kind that had got information. As far as I knew he'd taken money that wasn't his but Gunnar's acutally and now Gunnar wanted to know where it was. There was a loud noise, followed by a grunt.

"I don't have it anymore!" I heard the stranger's voice cry. 

One of them, Fredrik most likely, said something I couldn't understand.

The noises continued, and bit by bit the screams faded.

 _20... 19... 18..._ I slowly counted down to zero and came out of the room.

"Oi, mongrel!" I heard Herman shout when I was on my way already. "Get yer lazy ass over here!"

As I was used to, I took a look around the room the second I entered it. Gunnar and Fredrik were gone, Herman standing next to the table. One of the chairs had fallen over, blood all over it and over the desk and the floor. Not as much that one would die from the loss of it, but more than enough.

There was a bludgeon lying on the floor where someone had dropped it.

I took my eyes away and concentrated on Herman.

"Clean it up," he told me before he left without even waiting for an answer. Well, there was no need for it; mongrels were not supposed to talk. 

"Yessir," I murmured into the now empty living room. It was better that he'd left already though, because my voice was dripping with irony and sarcasm. I did as I'd been told to, got a bucket and a rag and started with mopping the floor.

I did my best not to think about what I was doing, that it was the blood of somebody, of a real person and that I didn't even knew where this person had gone now. On the other hand, it wasn't my blood and that was a pretty good thing. They'd had fun with this stranger instead of me and usually they were in a good mood after doing so. Maybe even the rough times would be over now.

Soon the water had turned red and my hands had taken on the metallic smell that was appertain to blood. I exchanged it and continued cleaning the chair and the table. Most of the blood had been on the floor, and I was done just before Gunnar and Herman came back. 

I tensed up for a second, expecting them to find anything I'd missed. Herman passed me but did nothing. Gunnar, after taking a closer look to the room, just nodded. "Good," he said.

 _Good?_ Just what was going on? They always found something. And they never, _never_ told me something was _good,_ that I had done something _right_. I stared at him in confusion before I remembered who he was and that it wasn't the best idea to stare at him like that. I looked down. But still -this was Gunnar. _Gunnar_. Did that mean the rough times were over? Whenever I thought I'd know how they'd react, they did something unexpected.

"Yer eye okay?" he asked. Gunnar had to be in a really good mood. 

I nodded. "Y-Yes, Sir," I stuttered. It had been two weeks, my eye had almost returned to it's original state; my ribs still hurt but he hadn't asked about them and I could bear the pain.

"Ya gonna work today," Gunnar declared. So that was it. Of course he didn't want me to work when I was in a bad state. Not because he was worried about me, but rather because he wanted his tool to be in a good working order.

I would work! I would see Mary, would tell her I was alright! And, last but not least, I would get out of here for a few hours!

"Oi! Move, ya fucking lil' piece of shit!" Gunnar hit my head and I stuttered an "I'm sorry" and a "Thank you" before rushing out.

The sun was about to set, coloring the sky in bright yellow and orange shades and, farther away, in a rosy one. I almost ran down the streets to Hooker's Alley and the club, recovering my breath as fast as I could and getting in.

With a little shock I found myself unable to get invisible at first. It wasn't for long, only two or three seconds, but it was totally out of the blue, the feeling that I couldn't surpress my presence as I was used to. For these two seconds, which rather felt like ages, I had forgotten about how to do what had come naturally to me for years.

I was totally out of practice. And I'd thought at least this one thing was something I couldn't fail on; one thing I didn't even have to think about because my body remembered all of it. I managed to get the hang of it again, flitting over to my corner unseen. Lucky me.

The room was crowded today, loud and smelly, even more than usual. That meant chances were high that one of the other kids was working too, but that didn't matter. Usually there was some kind of rivalry between the kid-thiefs, especially when two were working at the same time. They'd try to steal more than the other one to be in Gunnar's good books.

Not that he would've been bothered by that, all he was interested in was that they got him what he wanted. I didn't think they knew about that, but I didn't tell them either. It wasn't my business, as long as they didn't get in my way. And they didn't, of course not. I'd made clear that it was better not to get in my way right in the beginning.

I still needed to get my bag from the backroom, but first I watched out for Mary. I saw her dancing, having put on a seductive expression like all the others did. It looked wrong on her face, totally wrong, disgusting. I knew it wasn't Mary, that she was acting as she was supposed to, but I couldn't help getting angry at the world for forcing her into this.

I looked away, concentrated on what I'd have to do next. I made my way through the room easily, since it was more than full, everybody looking at the dancers. They did a pretty good job at that.

Fredrik was waiting already, handing me the bag without a word, and I got back in the front room and to work.

* * *

I filled my bag -an easy task today- while I looked out for Mary. If I wanted to talk to her today, and I needed to, I had to get my timing right.

When I finally saw her retreating I robbed two more guests before I followed her. My bag was almost full, a good evening therefore. I could turn it in without Fredrik getting suspicious of me.

He took what I'd got and left, and finally I was able to return to Mary's side. I didn't care about the others, just ran towards her and hugged her tightly.

"My, my," she laughed as she returned the hug and ruffled through my hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, it's done finally! I feel like this one isn't as good as the others though cause I kinda lacked the motivation, sorry for that, but there's gonna be some action in the next chapters, I promise ^^ I´m really excited about the next chapters and I can't wait to see if you like them as well~  
> I won't be here for two weeks though because of holidays and idk if I'll have internet where I'm going so yeah next update could take two weeks... thanks for reading and staying though, feel free to give me feedback okay? (which translates into "I'm begging for feedback")


	6. The lull before the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaa~  
> So here you go (the three of you who like my story and actually read it ^o^)
> 
> I promised some action but I had to edge this in cause nothing would make sense if I didn't ^^;; Also it's not perfect but it's not bad either n.n 
> 
> I hope you like it either way... enjoy reading! : )

Mary pressed a kiss on my forehead, something she hadn't done before and which left me speechless, blushing helplessly.

She put her hands on my shoulders and sized me up. "What happened?" she asked, and from that two words alone I could tell how worried she'd been. "You didn't show up for weeks and then you just pop up out of the blue?" Mar tried to adopt a scolding tone but it didn't work that well.

I gulped. "I got into trouble," I admitted. "Made them mad for a really dumb reason and had to bear the consequences. I'm sorry I wasn't here and got ya all worried... Ya shouldn't have to worry 'bout someone like me... I-"

Mary being Mary, she didn't hear me out. "Don't even start talking like that again," she interrupted me. Sighed. "Will you tell me what happened? Or is it one of the things you don't wanna talk about?"

I shook my head. There were only a few things I never talked to her about. One was how Gunnar and his men beat me up -never would I tell her more than that they did. Another thing I never showed or told her was how broken I was. I didn't want to talk about my weakness and I always made sure not to let her see how scared I was, how sad; how close to giving up.

Of course she saw I was not alright. She knew that Gunnar and his men were all but a loving family. She could imagine some of the things they did. But I didn't let her know exactly and -thank all the gods in the walls- she never asked.

What had happened that evening wasn't one of these things. I told her in short of my little adventure and how it had ended. I even told her that I'd almost died, although I hesitated to. But it felt right.

"So that's why I wasn't-" _here_.

Again Mary didn't hear me out, she just hugged me. Tightly. My ribs hurt but I clenched my teeth and didn't let her see. I needed to breath in her scent, a silent promise of a home, a safe haven, although I knew it was an empty one. "I'm so glad you're alright, little Mr. Invisible," she whisperd and I swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry I got you worried, Mar. I could... I should've known better. It's all my fault..."

She pulled away again, her hands on my shoulders, and gave me a serious look. "Don't forget that it's never your fault, Levi. It's not your fault that you were born -I'm really happy you were. I've got two sons and you are one of them." I felt my eyes getting wet; my lower lip started to shiver. "I hate to see you stuck with them... If only I could take you with me..."

 _Don't say things like that so easily... like they're just natural._ But she already continued with her little speech.

"And it's not your fault what Gunnar does, but his actually. Some day he'll pay for it; some day he'll meet somebody who's stronger than him. Do you promise that you'll still be here then so you can see it with your own eyes? Promise me we'll see it together."

I nodded and wiped away the tears. "Yeah," I replied, a little smile playing upon my lips. "I promise." I couldn't really imagine Gunnar meeting someone who was stronger than him. Someone who'd make him pay. Gunnar was the strongest being in my life, he was the absolute. The thought lightened up my mood though. Something to hold on to, because if I didn't I might have ended up chosing death over life.

I needed to change the topic.

"What about your son?" _Your real one... -God, she called me son. Son!_

"Izzy? Oh, he's alright, thanks. He-"

We got interrupted by the door. I always paid attention to it, ready to hide as soon as it moved a little. Fredrik came back. I gave her hand a squeeze, a silent goodbye. Mary did the same. she stood up, went to Fredrik's table and asked him something so I could get out without being noticed.

I'd been here long enough, heisted more than enough and as I took a look out of the window I saw it was getting dark already. Time to hit the road.

In passing I took some bread here and some cheese there -I hadn't really eaten for three days. Four if you counted today which was almost over.

This time I ate everything on my way home. They hadn't found what I'd hidden in my jacket the last time, but I had been more than lucky. And I hadn't been that hungry.

I could feel the shadows watching me. Today none of them moved forward though; they hadn't forgotten and they wouldn't. I had still to figure out if that was a good or a bad thing.

Darkness embraced me, swallowed me and I let her, happily, still grinning like a dork.

They hadn't beat me today. I'd gotten something to eat; never had something tasted so good. I'd finally seen Mary again and talking to her had made up for everything that'd happened in the last two weeks. The day had become a really good one.  
 _Son_... That was the best thing. It made me happier than everything else. Yet I couldn't call her mother because that would've felt like betraying my real one.

Spring was coming, defeating the winter more and more with each day that passed. The night was brisk but not too cold and I let my eyes wander off to the stars as I walked.

There was not a single cloud, the moon looking like a silver plate glued to the dark blue night sky. All around it the stars sparkled. Far out of my reach. In the distance the silhouette of wall Maria towered over the rooftops. If only I had wings, real wings, not like the fake ones the members of the Scouting Legion beared on their backs...

It was not that far away though. Close enough that there woudn't be time to escape if the wall was to fall. But it wasn't. There hadn´t been any incidents for more than hundred years, as long as we stayed within the walls we were totally safe.

I noticed that I'd been so deep in thoughts that even my body had stopped moving, even my feet hadn't taken another step forward. I really needed to get rid of that habit. I'd be late again. Fuck. I started running to make up for the time I'd wasted, recovering my breath for the second time today before I cautiously opened the door.

I wasn't sure if I was late, I'd lost time there for a moment. I slipped in, expecting everything. Crouched to a cup that might be thrown at me. Relaxed a bit when nothing happened.

Gunnar and Herman sat at the table playing cards, both of them concentrated on each other to notice when the other one tried to cheat. The atmosphere was easy-going though. Both of them had beer mugs in front of them, taking big sips while they kept their eyes glued to their opponent.  
I closed the door and murmured an "I'm back". They didn't look up; Herman let out a grunt as he lay down another card but I couldn't say if that was because of me or because he was losing.

I'd just go and hide somewhere and get some sleep.

* * *

Lying in the dark I could easily hear their voices. Fragments of what they said got through both walls that were between us as they got more and more drunk. Insults, most of the time.

"...fuckin' bastard I... cheat!"

"Cry ... river! ...didn't!"

 _I saw you cheat - I didn't..._ Basically that was it.

I wondered how Mary was doing. Was she home as well by now? Giving her son a hug, greeting him with her warm voice? A little smile played upon my lips as I pictured how she'd get out of the image she maintained at work.

I hated seeing her like that. I hated having to watch her on stage. How often I had tried to convince her to get out, to get another job I couldn't count. She didn't listen, didn't even hear me out most of the time.

Whoever that guy having the luck to be Mary's son was, I hoped he was aware of _how_ lucky he was. Probably he was not. I myself hadn't been until I had lost everything.

And now I regretted every single day what had happened. Asked myself if I could've done something else, something _more_ , something that would've saved my mother. I missed her. I missed her so terribly that my whole body hurt; I'd thought that would go away after a while but it had been more than four years now -four and a half- and I still pondered over that day.

What if I had cooked something else than soup? What if I had stayed at home? What if she had died in pain and all alone? What if?

But that didn't matter anymore. Once a day is over there is no way to live through it again. Once something is said or done you can't delete it. You can't reclaim words once they've left your lips. Once a person is dead there is no way for them to come back.

I'd learned it the hard way. Like Gunnar always said: "If ya wanna teach a dog ya have to beat it into him."

How often had I heard that words? Repeated over and over, until they were done with me? Every syllable a hit, a kick, a hand in my hair pulling me up again. Then, a few minutes before I'd pass out, they'd stop. Most likely look down on me, curling up on the floor. My arms over my head for protection, begging for them to stop. They'd ask: "Understood, mongrel?" And I'd stammer, that, of course I had understood, that I was sorry -whatever they wanted to hear.

And after that I'd wait for them to just leave me or knock me out with a last kick.

"Ya shithead!" Herman's voice was closer now, he had to be on his way to the room where I hid under one of the beds. "I fuckin' saw ya cheat! Argh!" A loud noise, maybe he'd hit a wall. The door opened. "Where's that brat?!"

And I'd thought I'd be off the hook for today. Would've been too good to be true. Hiding now would lead to more pain later and the last weeks had been rough enough already. _If ya wanna teach a dog ya have to beat it into him._ Well, I had learned that lesson.

I could see Herman's shadow now; he had to be standing in the door.

I moved a little, preparing myself for what would come next, while I started to come out of my hiding.

Other steps, another shadow -Gunnar's- lying over Herman's. "Stop it." He sounded not as drunk as the other one, as if he had drunk less. "Ya won't lay a hand on the dirty brat, mate. Ya know we need 'im ta be 'kay tomorrow."

He didn't shout, he didn't threaten, he didn't even swear, but his tone held all the authority he was capable of and that was more than enough to make even a really drunk Herman understand.

So -for some reason I didn't understand- I was safe now. Herman muttered something and just threw himself on the bed. I could hear it creak a bit as the mattress bent down a little.

"'N I saw ya draw that card from yer sleeve anyway!" he slurred. "Close the goddamn door when ya leave!"

And then it was dark and quiet again. That Gunnar of all people had held him back... _Ya know we need 'im ta be 'kay tomorrow._ What for?

But it was a good thing, wasn't it? No beating today. It had been the best day in the last four years. The last two weeks had been hell, but today had made up for much of it.

I felt light, didn't care about what would happen tomorrow. Tomorrow seemed so far away...

And yet, they hadn't beat me, because they 'needed me to be okay for tomorrow'?

 _A good or a bad thing_ , I wondered. I wouldn't bet on something good... most of the things they did were rather bad.

I drifted off to sleep, dreaming about Mar on the stage, dancing. Then, at some other place, a kitchen maybe, where she hugged another kid that was in the shadows cause I didn't know how her son looked for real.

Then Gunnar, Fredrik and Herman.

_...we need 'im ta be 'kay tomorrow..._

_What for?_ , I wanted to ask, but I couldn't. I got frightened at first, but then I remembered that dogs -mongrels especially- didn't talk.

My own mother. Wasn't there something about her...?

"Father is coming back soon, don't worry," she said with a smile. "He's a hero, remember?"

Ah yeah he was... I really didn't need to worry...

Mother gently stroked through my hair. "But you need to be okay for tomorrow," she added.

The table we had sat at was gone, the whole house was, and we stood in a single beam of light. Darkness, pitchblack and thick, all around us. Didn't I fear the darkness?

_No... I like it... darkness is gentle... I was scared of it back when I was younger but I learned to love it... why?_

Mary came out of the shadows. Just like mother she stopped at the edge of the light.

"That's right," she said. "You need to be okay for tomorrow. You should listen to your mother."

Herman, Fredrik and Gunnar joined them, standing next to Mar and mother.

"Ya need ta be 'kay for tomorrow," they said simultaneously.

"You need to be okay for tomorrow," all five of them repeated. "You have to be okay for tomorrow."

They encircled me, surrounded me, trapped me. Even if I wanted to get out, I couldn't any longer. Whichever direction I faced was blocked by one of them.

"You need to be okay for tomorrow."

An eternal chorus, repeated over and over, until the seven words became one.

_Youneedtobeokayfortomorrow, Youneedtobeokayfortomorrow, Youneedtobeokayfortomorrow..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys!
> 
> Ya found some wrong grammar? Some other mistakes? Feel free to contact me! (Really, please tell me cause I have a feeling there are some mistakes) n.n


	7. Storm (part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this one's a bit messed-up OTL  
> But I didn't want to let you wait any longer and I feel really bad because I didn't update for so long (but in return for needing so much time this chapter got a bit longer... actually I had to split it into two ^^;; )  
> SO if you find a mistake, be it a grammatical or a textual one, PLEASE TELL ME so I can correct it :)  
> Enjoy \\(^o^)/

When I woke up I was soaked in sweat.

_A nightmare again?_

But usually I would remember them... If I had dreamed this night I had no memory of it. Just a bad taste on the tip of my tongue and the feeling that something would happen today.

I didn't know why, but I had a feeling as if something was about to change. For better or worse I couldn't say, but I was prepared for the worst. Whatever the worst might be. I got up and tip-toed out of the room to not wake Herman and Fredrik who still snored in their beds.

I was the first one to wake up in the morning; getting waked by hits or kicks was something I avoided if possible. I loved these early hours when they were still asleep. Usually I would slip out the back door and watch the sunrise -except for dawn and the night's darkness this was my favourite hour of the day. Not only because nobody else was awake yet, but because this time of day the held its very own, unique kind of silent peace.

It felt like the world was mine to take.

It was a strange feeling; I wasn't a mongrel, nor Levi -I just _was_. Let myself drift.

I took my seat on one of the old wooden barrels in the backyard. Nobody knew where they’d come from and nobody felt responsible for them, so they just stood there. Forgotten by everyone but me because they made a good place to watch the sunrise from.

The morning was clear and brisk, not a single cloud was to be seen on the sky, but if you paid attention you could smell an upcoming storm, taste it in the air, feel it under your skin. Winter would rebel a last time before it would leave.

It would get warmer now day by day. After the last storm the world would become green over night and people would get a wee bit friendlier. That last winter storm had yet to come, and it would come soon. Maybe today. There were blasts at irregular intervals, most of them strong enough to force me to hold on to my barrel.

That’s how it always was: It would get warmer, people would get friendlier, and then the last winterstorm would sweep across us and the end of it would mean the end of winter.

I was lucky I was with Gunnar, I wouldn’t have survived a single one of those storms on the streets. I hated myself because of that; because I knew even if I got away, which would be difficult enough since I was useful to them, I would be lost. I definitely would have been four years ago.

And today? Today was nothing different. I was four years older, still weak, and my reflexes let me flinch from every sudden movement. I was pathetic. Nothing more than a dog that’s been trained well by Gunnar.

Like he always said. If you wanna teach a dog you have to beat it into him.

I pushed all that thoughts aside as I watched the sunrise. As the sun rose it coloured the sky in all shades of violet and orange and everything in between, the borders blurred, thus creating new colours I had no name for. I sat on my barrel, legs crossed, my hands supporting myself on the wood.

My breathing slowed down, my thoughts fell silent and for a moment I forgot what situation I was in, forgot any nightmares and fears, even the upcoming storm. I forgot myself. I watched the huge, white circle that was the sun appearing over the rooftops, higher and higher until it was far above me. Imagined how it would be to do the same… If I left though, if I would dare to just take one step after the other until I would be far away from Gunnar and his men, I wouldn’t see Mary again.

All I knew about her was that she was a dancer, that she had a son and that she was the most beautiful, generous person in my life. I didn’t even know where she lived. And even if it meant to just continue with what had become some kind of routine to me, even if it meant I would get beaten over and over, I could not bear to lose her.

Not that I would have survived that long on the streets without the protection that my reputation as Gunnar’s property offered. I would have to acknowledge to myself that I really was nothing without him.They had a point when they said I only was alive thanks to them.

Time to get in again. They didn't like to see me doing something like this.

When I slipped back in Gunnar and Fredrik already sat at the table in the kitchen and ate. Was it that late already?

_Dammit!_

I closed the door as quietly as possible hoping for them not to notice me although there was no way they hadn't. The backdoor led to the kitchen, the biggest room out of the three rooms in the house. It also was some kind of living room, at the other end of it the front door that led to the streets.

There was nothing between me and the table. Maybe I was lucky; they hadn't beaten me yesterday, needed me in a good condition for today. So they wouldn't beat me up now, would they?

"You," Gunnar said and I tensed up. "Come here." His voice was calm, he was totally relaxed. Not that this was a hint for anything. Some of the worst beatings I had received when he'd called me in this tone. Still I obeyed; of course I did. Moved, one foot in front of the other, until I faced him.

"Sit down 'n eat, brat."

And again he'd surprised me, doing the one thing I'd never have expected. I had waited for him to beat me; what reason ever for. I had waited for him to explode, maybe just because I'd been outside.

Instead he'd told me to eat.

Well, I was not as dumb as to reject food.

I did what Gunnar had told me to, sat down and cut off a slice of bread.

He let out a grunt and cut off another slice, more than twice as big as the one I was eating already. On top he gave me some cheese -something I would never have dared.

Again I asked myself what the fuck they were planning. Not that I had to know; maybe it was better if I didn't.

At some point Gunnar stood up. “Gonna get Herman,” he said to Fredrik. “You take care of the mongrel.”

Fredrik nodded. He left and came back a few minutes later, handing me a bunch of clothes. A shirt, pants, a vest...  

“Take a bath and put these on,” he said. “When you’re done come to the club.”

I knew something was going on. I knew they were planning something –but what?

All I would get as an answer if I asked though would be a hit. And a short “Mongrels don’t talk!”.

So I stayed silent, only nodded and mumbled “Yes, Sir.” When they'd left I did what they’d told me to. Whatever was going on, I was grateful for the bath.

I was dirty, just as dirty as my clothes were. The smell of the weeds that were smoked in the club sticked to them, to my shirt and pants –to my skin.

I was small enough to only have to fill the wooden bath tub half. The remaining time I could use to wash my old clothes as well. The water was cold but I was used to that, I even liked it.

* * *

When I felt clean again I slipped into the new clothes Fredrik had given to me and took a look at my reflection on the water's surface.

The new clothes were just like the old ones, although they were clean. My hair wasn’t oily anymore, held back by my usual piece of rope.

I looked neat. If I hadn’t been that thin I could’ve been any kid with a normal family, with a home, a scolding mother and a hard-working father…

I wasn’t though.

I was nothing more than a mongrel, a servant and punchback to the cruelest guys I’d ever known. And I’d be in trouble if I didn’t get to the club soon.

As I made my way through the alleys I couldn’t stop thinking about what they might want from me. Theory after theory rushed through my head, without any of them seeming very likely. In the end I even asked myself if they would get me adopted by someone, than rob them and come back.

Well, I would find out soon enough. The club towered before me, like a monster about to swallow me whole without even noticing.

It was too early for the club to open yet, so I didn’t bother with hiding.

It felt strange, seeing all tables and the stage empty. Made the room seem vast. It made my hair stand on end, as if trying to warn me. As if a monster would come out of hiding every second, although there was nowhere to hide here.

Just what was going on? With Gunnar, this room and myself? With that heavy atmosphere?

The atmosphere getting heavier before a storm was normal, the whole world crouching before the upcoming thunder, the lightning and the violent winds. But this was more.

I went to the backroom because I knew nothing else. One of them would be there for sure. And with someone else around I wouldn’t have the feeling of some kind of monster waiting for me.

There were some dancers preparing for their shift already. They pretended not to see me and I did my best to not look at them. I held back a smile when I saw Mary was one of them. But Fredrik was waiting already and I couldn’t risk to talk to her.

He let out a grunt when he noticed me. “Took ya long enough,” he growled.

I said nothing but he didn’t expect me to.

“Ya wait here.” He left, not through the back door this time and I waited. Most likely he was looking for Gunnar.

Mary hadn’t seen me yet for some reason, so I sneaked up from behind to surprise her. When I lay my hand on her shoulder she winced and let out a little squeak. I smiled when she turned around. Her eyes widened.

“Levi?” she asked, almost shocked. “What’re you doing here at this time?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Dunno,” I replied. “They gave me something to eat, told me to take a bath, put on new clothes and come here afterwards. But they never explain to me what’s goin’ on, so…” As I thought about it now, they had acted strange but in a good way till now.

I knit my brows when I saw worries I didn’t understand darkening Mary’s eyes.

“What’s it?” I asked. “It’s alright, Mar! They didn’t even beat me. Isn’t that good?” I didn’t believe all of this was leading to something good myself, but I didn’t want Mary to worry when I didn’t know either, so I acted more cheerful than I felt.

“Nothing,” she replied, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes totally. There was a moment of silence when I didn’t know what to say to comfort her.

“Levi?” she asked suddenly, her tone deadly serious for some reason.

“Hmm?”

Mary hesitated. “Did you know that the saddest people smile the brightest?” she asked finally. “And that it’s the most broken people, the ones who went through one hardship after the other, that others choose to be their leader?”

“What…?” What was this about? Why did she sound like she was saying goodbye? Why did this feel like a farewell?

“People might choose you sometime, who knows? You would make a great leader; just have faith in your instincts.”

“Mar, you sound scary.”

She laughed a little. “Sorry. I’m just getting sentimental for some reason. Forget I ever said that.” She put her hands around my face, still serious. It had been a fake laugh. “Promise me you’ll always keep your head high; promise as my beloved son.”

I could only nod. Where was this coming from? _Don’t leave me. Please_.

And then everything happened all too fast.

Fredrik came back.

Mary’s hands were still around my face. No way out.

Mary reacted before I could, putting on an act. Got angry, almost hit me.

I flinched out of habit.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Fredrik interrupted us, grabbing my arm and pulling me away roughly. Holding back Mary who tried to pursue me.

She sweared. “That fucking little bastard stole my ring!”

I was lucky that she was such a good actor; Fredrik looked at her and didn’t see how confused I was at first before I played along.

“I didn’t!” I protested, glaring at her now.

“Ya shuddup!” Fredrik growled at me. He turned to Mary again. “That kid’s well trained –he wouldn’t steal from people we didn’t order ‘im to steal from. ‘N he wouldn’t dare ta lie.” He looked back down on me. “He knows what’s gonna happen if he does.”

His last words were a threat; if I would’ve lied they would find out and then the last two weeks would be what I’d wish for.

“Come.” He turned around and started moving, expecting me to follow him. And of course I did.

Before I could go, Mary grabbed my arm a last time. If Fredrik had looked back all he would see would be an angry dancer whispering a last threat into the mongrel’s ears.

“Take care.”

She pushed me away, and I hurried to go after Fredrik; looking back a last time I saw a worried Mar, with a strange expression on her face.

She knew something. Something she hadn’t told me; instead she’d said all those other, totally untypical things. Instead she had said goodbye.

What was so terrible that she couldn’t bear to tell me? I’d been nervous before, but now I was scared. I couldn’t help it though.

All I could do was following Fredrik. He led me to a door I’d seen before but never passed. Behind it was a small corridor with doors to both sides.

In front of one of those doors Gunnar was waiting already. “What took ya so long, maggot?” he growled. “Doesn’t matter. Behind this door is one of the nobles waiting. If ya don’t do whatever he wants he might just get the idea that it’s more fun to kill yer.” And with that he opened the door and pushed me inside.

I could hear the door closing behind me and scanned the room like I always did. Rather small. A bed and next to it a little table, some kind of nightstand.

And on the bed a man.

He was sitting there without even noticing me. You could see he was a noble, fat and clean-shaved. Not in the robes of a noble but still wearing clothes way too well made for a worker or even a merchant. He was smoking something and from the smell I could tell it was some of that weed.

Now he slowly raised his head and saw me. Grinned a lazy grin.

This man was dangerous. Not in a way as Gunnar, Herman and Fredrik were. Nobody was more dangerous than them if it came to their methods.

But in his own way this fat, disgusting man was far more dangerous than they could ever be.

He waved me closer and I had no other choice than to obey. I took a step and another one and one more until I stood in front of him.

“There you are,” he said with a unpleasant voice. “Let me take a look at you… Don’t tell me Gunnar lied to me. You’re not older than nine! How old are you, boy?” He stood up and for a second I wondered how he even moved all that mass that was his body.

“Eleven, Sir.”

“Eleven? That’s good then.” He fumbled with his belt and put something on the nightstand.

 _What a small world_ …

There lay my knife that hadn’t even been mine. And still I thought about it as that. _Mine_. A strange word for someone who owned nothing…

“You know, my son is six years old now. I don’t do kids younger than ten.”

Every cell in my body was screaming at me, shouting to get away.

Because now I knew what this guy was up to –what all of them had been up to. What had been too horrible for Mary to tell me.

I had seen it before.

On my way home in the dark, in the shadows of alleys I had passed. Two silhouettes, a tiny and a big one. Some times it was more than one big one. The tiny one held down, all silent even if they struggled…

I had known what it had been. I’d been safe though –the only thing I’d ever thanked Gunnar for. And now he had decided to sell me himself.

I couldn’t do anything. As he’d said, this man as a noble would kill me if he wanted to. I should be grateful if he just… _did me_ , as he’d called it. Not to mention that Gunnar would be beside himself. I didn’t want to find out what he’d do if I disobeyed.

The noble let out a grunt and I noticed that he must’ve said something I hadn’t heard. He grabbed my arm and simply threw me on the bed. He shouldn’t have been able to do this with that body, even influenced by the weed, but he was.

His weight pushed me down.

Something blinked at the corner of my side and my mind went blank.

The next thing I knew was the knife in my hand and the disgusting face above me turning distorted by hate when he noticed that I wouldn’t let him do as he pleased. Not without a fight!

 _No_ , was all I could think. _No_. _No! NO!_

There was a short struggle when he tried to wrench the knife from me and and I held on to it for my dear life, trying to cut him anywhere so he’d get the fuck away from me.

I wasn’t intending to kill him –I didn’t intend anything, I didn't even think.

It just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and tell me what you think~


	8. Storm (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware, this is gonna be bloody. Just in case some of you are triggered by it :)
> 
> What happened before:  
> [There was a short struggle when he tried to wrench the knife from me and and I held on to it for my dear life, trying to cut him anywhere so he’d get the fuck away from me.  
> I wasn’t intending to kill him –I didn’t intend anything, I didn't even think.  
> It just happened.]  
> ...

Suddenly there was blood on my hands, hot and wet; I hadn't known blood was that _hot_. The metallic scent displaced the weed's. Half of my face was covered in the crimson fluid because the other half had been pressed into the pillows.

I heard him gasp a last time and then his body went limp and got even heavier. If that was possible, that is.

The adrenaline running through my veins made me stronger and somehow I managed to push him away. I stood up, knees shaking, blood on my face, my hands and clothes.

And there he lay, not moving, of course not, eyes broken and frozen.

In a strange way he reminded me of that dead bird from years ago. I had forgotten about it till now. The beautiful sadness from back then was totally missing though.

All I felt now was disgust and relief, as I just stood there, looking down on what I could only call an ugly creature. In the back of my head a quiet thought was nagging; _You have just killed a man,_ but I didn't fully realize yet. I didn't want to.

There was a knock on the door, breaking the silence like a hammer going down on me, making me freeze and forget how to breath.

"Sir?" The door opened. "I heard-" Herman stopped. Looked at the bed where the blood still pouring out of the dead man's throat had colored the former white sheets crimson red.

He sweared, turned around and left.

_I need to get out of here. I don't wanna know what's going to happen once he comes back.  
But where to go to? Even if I don't return home, they're gonna find me. If I'd even make it out of here, that is.  _

Too late.

Gunnar rushed in, followed by Fredrik and Herman. No swearing this time, no insults. Without a word he took the two steps he needed to cross the room as he reached out for me already.

He'd kill me. This time nothing would stop him and his fury. Finally my body was able to move again; I stumbled backwards, fell over my own feet and still crawled back, away from him, until I was stopped by the wall. No way out this time, not now, not after what I'd done. He would grab my throat again and this time he wouldn't stop until _I_ had stopped breathing.

"Fred!" I heard Herman shout. "Stop him!"

Two arms appeared around Gunnar's waist, pulling him back, away from me. Fredrik had a tough time retaining him. Herman moved as well, standing between me and Gunnar now.

"If ya kill 'im, we're dead!" he shouted. I didn't understand, but it looked like I was safe for now; Gunnar calmed down a bit until Fredrik let go of him. Maybe this wasn't better than being killed in an instant though.

"Ya have two minutes to give me a very good reason not to kill the fucking brat," he said in a strained voice.

"'Cause this lil' piece of shit's goin' to be our fuckin' life insurance! Think about what'll happen when _he,_ " Herman pointed at the bed with his head, "is goin' to be found here, dead in one of our beds. We'll be screwed. And they're gonna search for 'im if he he doesn't come back. They'll find out 'bout everythin' and we'll be dead.

But what if he died on the streets? Murdered by a dirty lil' thief for money or somethin'?" I understood what he was up to, I knew where these words were leading to. And so did Gunnar.

Fredrik might've been the basher, the physically strongest one, Gunnar might've been the boss, the cruelest one, and he was not stupid. But he was not as intelligent as Herman; Herman was the brain. 

"And what if said thief was catched by us?" he now continued.

Gunnar nodded understandingly. "Not bad," he admitted.

"We're gonna set everything up and let it look like he was murdered in some alley by a thug but we catched him red-handed and brought 'im ta justice! Who knows, maybe we'll even get a reward if we hand him over alive so they can have their revenge on him. All we need to do is keeping him alive a little longer, until everything is ready."

* * *

And that was what they did. Fredrik was pulling me with him, roughly and with some kind of surpressed anger although he didn't openly show it. Herman and Gunnar were to take care of the corpse.

Fredrik's grip would've hurt -although I'd had it worse- if I had felt something at all. My body was numb; my mind trying to reject the thought of having killed a man with my own hands, the blood still on them.

The wind had gotten even heavier, tugging at my hair and my clothes as if it wanted to blow me away. Dark clouds covered the sky and the sun, darkening the world as well as they didn't let much light shine through. The storm was about to come up. It was here already. And soon it would reach its climax, rain pouring down while lightning and thunder would cause havoc.

People were used to this though, and whatever damage would occur would be dealt with soon and fast. This was part of everyday life; it happened every year and it would happen next year again. There was no way to stop nature; and somehow it got worse because of all the walls. Well at least that's what I had overheared when I'd been younger, when my mother'd been still alive.

Today I barely realized all of it, the wind, the clouds and the storm which had started already. If they really wanted to do what they'd planned, Gunnar, Fredrik and Herman had to hurry. In a few hours even they'd have to stay inside. In the end they were just human, and they were as vulnerable in front of this storm as anybody else.

Fredrik didn't seem to notice. He tagged me along roughly as he made his way through the alleys, most likely wanting to get me off the streets before someone would see me, covered in blood as I was. He didn't have to worry -normal people were in their houses already, making last preperations for the storm.

When we reached home he pushed me into the living room, his grip finally releasing me and at the same time causing me to fall down. Fredrik said nothing, silence filling the room for an eternity, as it seemed. I didn't dare to make a single noise; I couldn't get invisible now but I didn't want any more attention than I got already, with him staring at me like that.

I didn't dare to look at him either, fixing my eyes on my feet and the floor as I hugged my knees. _You have killed a man._ I had killed a man. With my own two hands. And I hadn't regretted it, looking down on him afterwards. I didn't even regret it now, all I felt was desperation; they would kill me, hand me over to the guards to let _them_ kill me... or worse...

Nobody would believe me if I told them what Gunnar and his men had done already, they'd make sure of that. Who would believe a flithy little street kid anyway? I would die and I couldn't do anything about it. Or maybe I could? Maybe I could at least decide the way I would die, maybe I could at least make it fast.

I took a deep breath.

Accepted death. Accepted that I would join my parents earlier than I'd thought -if there was a place after death where I could meet them again. What was my future offering anyway? The guards; maybe even torture -a shiver went down my spine at that thought- and an execution.

Even if I hadn't killed that man -what would my life be like? Servant and punchback to Gunnar, Fredrik and Herman, most likely sold again and again. To the same man or to others, similar ones, it didn't matter. The thought of him just touching me made me queasy already.

I could still feel where he'd placed his hands -my skin burned where he had. Maybe I'd never forget.

 _I'm sorry, Mar. Looks like I won't be here to see when Gunnar meets someone who's stronger than him._ That I would leave Mary behind was my only regret; I knew that she would mourn and although I had never intended to make her sad or even worried, now I would be the reason for exactly that.

I had to hurry before the others came back with one of the guards. I looked up. Fredrik's eyes were not fixed on me, although they wandered back to me every once in a while to make sure I didn't make a run for it. If only he had looked away long enough, I could've become invisible, disappearing in the shadows, and escaped. It would've been hard, almost impossible -but maybe, _maybe_ it could've worked. Fredrik was not the smartest man inside the walls. He didn't, though, and what could've been a chance remained a thought as I opened my mouth.

"Oi," I said, my voice low and shakey. Yet the word pierced the silence that had thickened the air, making it hard to even breath. Fredrik's attention shifted back to me.

"Shuddup."

"No." It took all my courage to say this one little word loud enough for him to hear me. I wasn't used to speaking up to one of them. But I'd have to say much more.

Fredrik frowned in surprise; he hadn't expected me to even speak, but for me to disobey a direct order was so unlikely that it seemed almost impossible. Before he could react any further -before I could forget about what was waiting for me if I stopped here and chickened out- I continued.

"You're not much better than me, eh? They let you do the scutwork while they do the real stuff -and in the end they'll take all the credit."

"Ya shut the fuck up, mongrel!" He interrupted me, shouting already. All of them got angry pretty easily, so that wouldn't be hard. But he yet had to get angrier to accidentaly kill me. I would've tried to do it myself, but he was wearing my knife -yes, _mine_ \- at his belt and I had no other option.

"Truth hurts?" I asked, getting more self-confident the more I talked. "'N in the end they'll just leave ya'lone the moment they don't need ya any longer. You're just worthless scum."

I stood up as I said this, without even knowing why. Maybe it would make him angrier if I wasn't acting like I was scared to death. And angrier he got, taking a step towards me with clenched teeth. My feet moved backwards out of habit, although it was no use. Athough, I had to remind myself, this was what I _wanted._

"I'm gonna beat ya to a bloody fuckin' pulp" he growled, grabbing my wrist, and that was the moment everything went wrong. That was the spot where _he_ had placed his hands, the spot that still burned, that spot that turned my thoughts to chaos and caused my body to react on its own -again.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins, as if it had totally displaced my blood. It made me strong, stronger than I would ever had dared to even _hope_ to be. Strong enough to push him away with a desperate cry, although a tiny little part of me still was shouting for my body to stop, because this had been what I'd wanted, this had been what I'd provoked him for. Yet the only thoughts running through my head, going on a rampage without leaving space for anything else, where _Don't touch me!_ and, quieter, _I want to live!_

He was surprised, maybe even more than I myself. My attack catched him totally off guard, he stumbled back and fell over his own feet and as he fell his head met the table's edge. There was a horrible noise, something between a thud and a crack and Fredrik went down.

And there he lay, a red puddle slowly appearing from somewhere at the back of his head, growing bigger, his mouth slightly opened in surprise and his broken eyes staring at the ceiling without seeing it anylonger. Like the bird, again -and again without any beauty. There was only relief. Pure, absolute relief.

A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me, slipped through my lips, weak and shakily. My hands flew to my mouth, covering it because even this small sound had been incredibly loud. Somebody must've heard. Somebody had to _know_. There was no way I'd get away with this.

I was about to panic, I knew I was. And if I did, it would be the end of me, I knew that as well. I needed to get out of here. I didn't know where to go, but I had to leave. Outside the storm would be raging soon, but my chances of surviving that were better than if I stayed here.

Together with Fredrik's dead body. I'd killed a man. _Another man._

Although I knew this time he'd deserved death. That wouldn't save me, though. And it was just now, in this very moment, that I realized I _wanted_ to live. The thought had been there before, but it was this moment when I  _knew_ , this moment when my entire body tingled with the desire to survive. I bobbed up, -just when had my knees stopped supporting the rest of my body?- and turned around to leave.

At the door I stopped; hurried back to take my knife from Fredrik. I tried not to look at him, not to think about that I was touching a dead body. The few seconds my shaking fingers needed to free it from under his belt felt like an eternity but finally it was in my hands, and I could turn back to the door, pull it open and rush out.

The moment I opened it I almost crashed into Herman's chest, flinched back, scraping by him before he could react. Getting away. 

I didn't ask myself for how long. Though maybe I should have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the real storm is just about to begin =D


End file.
